


Your Sugar (yes, please)

by tukimecca



Series: Love Me like You Do (what are you waiting for) [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Boys In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Kilts, M/M, if it's considered pick-up lines, not so ninja jaeyong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 12:30:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14425446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tukimecca/pseuds/tukimecca
Summary: Xuxi models in kilt. Mark comes to watch.





	Your Sugar (yes, please)

**Author's Note:**

> For reference, please google ‘kilty pleasure calendar’, because that thing is golden, and Xuxi should be in kilt, all the time. And don’t worry, the 50k of maracas is coming next month /sweats/ hopefully
> 
> For Xuxi's mom, Mbanna
> 
> Thanks, Belle, for beta-ing this, I hope you had fun reading 3k of shirtless Xuxi ;) Apologize for any mistakes, timeline or place inaccuracy.

_I want that red velvet,_  
_I want that sugar sweet_ _  
Don't let nobody touch it, unless that somebody's me_

Sugar - Maroon 5

:::

Whoever’s idea it was to make Xuxi model for _this_ , Mark genuinely cannot tell whether it was genius or not.

Genius because Huang Xuxi is freaking _hung_ with his perfectly sculpted body, bulging deltoids and well-pronounced serratus under his defined pecs. His sternum is a fucking valley between his, well, _manboobs_ , and the fang-shaped pendant that rests snugly there.

Mark momentarily indulges himself with the thought of running his tongue down that cleavage. And, _fuck_ , Huang Xuxi actually has cleavage, and Mark shouldn’t be surprised since he had seen Xuxi shirtless before.

But as notorious as Xuxi’s bloody hung body is, the same can be said about Mark’ reputation at being a God Forsaken prude. He feels like staring at someone else’s body is an invasion of their privacy, even if Xuxi had said multiple times it’s okay, but Mark still thinks it’s rude, he doesn’t want other people to look at his naked body either unless it’s _necessary,_ therefore, he tries as hard as possible not to stare.

But now it’s practically impossible not to stare, not when being shirtless and half-naked is Xuxi’s _job_ , and he’s so excited about it that he invites Mark to _watch_ him.

Yes. He actually did ask Mark to watch him modeling, he had said it’s for a calendar, some joint project between the design and photography major, and Mark had agreed to come, thinking that it’s just some harmless calendar shooting, it wouldn’t hurt.

Besides, Xuxi had looked at him with so much expectation dancing in his dark, galactic eyes, stars twinkling with excitement and hope, and his grin was so blinding, so wide, it swallowed Mark whole.

Mark said yes, he’ll come. Xuxi smothered him in his hug, suffocating Mark within his fortress of arms, and igniting the hammering of the smaller boy’s heart with the intimate contact.

He’s glad Xuxi didn’t proceed to kiss him on the cheeks like he had done during the regional competition, when their campus’ football team had emerged victorious with Xuxi joining as their linebacker.

That was embarrassing. Mark had been stoned, he stayed rooted on the bench for a full fifteen minutes until Donghyuck smacked his head upside down. By that time, Xuxi had been carried by his teammates, and Donghyuck had _kindly_ informed him that it wasn’t only Mark whom he had kissed, but a dozen other friends of his also.

Not everyone accepted the kiss, Donghyuck had said, voice edging with reassurance. Nevertheless, Mark had been strangely disappointed to hear that it wasn’t only him that Xuxi tried to kiss.

He didn’t dwell on it. Mark Lee didn’t dwell on why he wasn’t the only one Huang Xuxi tried to kiss.

He’s so not dwelling on it.

Donghyuck said he did because he glared too much at anyone whom Xuxi touched, and it’s not normal since math major Huang Xuxi was famous for being the young, ace linebacker, and the most intimate guy in their university. He even give the most killer math professor a hug, some testified they had seen Xuxi giving the campus’ gardener a hug as well.

He’s a human size Siberian Husky. He _jumps_ people on a daily basis, Mark included.

And Mark apparently had minced them with his eyes like they’re pests even though according to Donghyuck, it should be Xuxi he’s glaring at, not anyone whom he threw himself onto, because, _well_ , because it _was_ Xuxi who initiated the skinship, not the other way around.

Mark denied the accusation, defending himself with, “I’m just sleepy that’s why I’m squinty, that’s all. I wasn’t glaring at anyone. At all.”

Donghyuck had looked at him with both amusement and exasperation. Mark knew him well enough, they’ve known each other since they were both in diapers, to be able to read the ‘ _Whatever floats your boat, Genius_ ’ written with bold, red marker on his face.

So, no, Mark is not dwelling on it, but he cannot deny that the thought of running his tongue, or his finger, down Xuxi’s sternum, is dwelling inside his head. Currently. Right now, as he watches Xuxi sits on the stool, leaning back on the wall behind him, shoulders rolled back to support his weight, back arched forward, and chest all puffed out.

He’s also wearing a kilt.

A fucking, red and black kilt.

A fucking kilt, that rides so low down on his hips, exposing his neatly trimmed happy trail and rows of beautifully defined abs.

The photographer says something, Xuxi tilts his head to the side, eyes fluttering close, mouth parting open.

He looks like a _whole meal_. Mark is edging closer to the border of insanity, and, indeed, this whole photoshoot is genius.

This whole idea of making a calendar with the theme of ‘men in kilts’ is total genius. Especially when one of the men in question is Huang Xuxi.

“Perfect! Now, can you lean on your back, open your legs a little,” the photographer instructs. Mark nearly gets whiplash from turning his head so hard in the direction of said photographer.

_Open your what???_

The photographer also happens to be the boyfriend of Donghyuck’s brother, Jeong Jaehyun. Caramel brown eyes. Dimpled smile. Popularity beyond the roof before and after he officially dated Donghyuck’s brother who also happens to be the campus’ sweetheart, Lee Taeyong.

And that man is telling, _ordering_ , Xuxi to open his legs. His legs that are only covered by the goddamned kilt. Xuxi obeys it confidently, no hesitation, and spreads his knees, a little too wide in Mark’s opinion. His brain is positively fried.

Jaehyung also seems to agree with Mark, he makes a motion with his palm, “no, no. Too wide. Just a little,” Xuxi brings his knees a little closer until Jaehyun tells him to stop, sounding satisfied.

Mark cannot really tell whether he’s satisfied or disappointed, but before he can come to a conclusion in his judgement, Jaehyun speaks again.

“Now, pull up the kilt, up to your thigh.”

Mark almost sputtered, ‘ _EXCUSE ME???’_

He only managed to bumble in his head, the Mark in reality gapes at his friend as he hunches the cursed kilt up to, _to_...

 _Bloody hell,_ he knows Xuxi’s thighs are as impressive as the rest of his body, but he has never seen them in the flesh, only knowing it through the silhouette made by his uniform pants. Well, he had caught a glimpse of them before, but there wasn’t so much skin involved.

Now, he’s given the privilege to see them in all of their glory. All golden skin and beautiful formation of well-trained quadriceps, the result of his arduous football training. Mark had touched them before, one day when Xuxi scraped his knees in practice. Mark had been watching because hanging around the football team during their practice whilst reading his book has been somewhat his routine ever since he and Xuxi have known each other.

It’s a rather unlikely friendship, their majors are not even related to each other; Mark in Management and Xuxi in Math, which never fails to surprise anyone. Nobody would have thought that Xuxi, who looks like he came out of a fitness magazine, could belong to such a nerdy major like math.

Xuxi is a nerd, and he is a surprise. He is a total geek who rambles about quantum theory and whether he should take a double major in physics as well, because he happens to have been born a genius with a flying IQ, and skipped several grades in high school. He also wears thick glasses all the time, even when he sleeps, that he has already lost count of how many glasses he has crushed after accidentally sleeping on them.

His favorite movie is X + Y. When they first met after being introduced by Jeno, Mark’s classmate who’s also in the football team as their Quarterback, Xuxi had exclaimed rather loudy and overly enthusiastically, complete with a finger pointing at Mark, grin splitting his handsome face in half and eyes glittering with excitement.

“Nathan!”

Mark blinked, perplexed and surprised. He took in Xuxi’s whole appearance; built like a fucking tower and yet, face disproportionately young with his body. “I’m Mark.”

The boy laughed, boisterous and shameless, and he practically jumped on Mark, slinging one arm around his shoulder. He smelt like cinnamon and burnt wood. The invading scent made Mark a little dizzy. His head got lighter when Xuxi spoke, right into his ears, their close proximity enabled Mark to feel the rumble under his skin when he spoke. “No. No. Nathan, the math genius boy. From X + Y, you know?”

“No. I don’t,” _know Nathan and I don’t know you_ , his mind supplied. But then Xuxi laughed again, like a crackling bonfire under the autumn sky, the air was crisp, and Xuxi was pleasantly warm.

Mark thought he wanted to know this boy.

And know him, he did. Xuxi somehow managed to seamlessly intertwine his routine into Mark’s, always appearing here and there, that infuriatingly boyish grin ever so present on his handsome face. When Mark realized, watching the football team practice had already found its place in between his schedule. Denying Xuxi to be his reason for watching is futile, because he really cannot come up with another excuse other than watching Xuxi getting all hot and sweaty.

Scratch the _hot_. Just sweaty. Very, very, sweaty, making the high point of his muscles gleam with moisture. Very sexy.

Again; _scratch. The. Sexy_.

Oh, who’s he kidding. Xuxi is sexy. He can ask all of the student bodies and they will come up with the same answer; Huang Xuxi of Math Major and The Ace Linebacker of Football Team is sexy. His quadriceps are sexy, and Mark had been lucky enough to run his hands through that smooth plane of muscles when he treated Xuxi’s bloodied knee.

And now he’s baring his quadriceps for everyone to see, the red fabric hunched up on the upper half of his thighs.

Mark swallows. Thick. Audible. He casts his gaze somewhere else before it lands on the dangerous territory between Xuxi’s legs.

He ends up making eye contact with Donghyuck’s infamous brother, everyone’s favorite doll, Lee Taeyong. He beams like a christmas tree at the sight of Mark.

“Mark! I didn’t know you’ll come!” The beauty says, surprised. His voice attracts everyone’s attention, their gazes shifting to the new incomer, Xuxi included.

Xuxi included. Xuxi who’s clad in nothing but the red kilt, practically naked but for his crotch, and is looking like a whole meal with his tousled dark brown hair and his stupid glossed-lips, and a pair of kohl-rimmed eyes that bring out his already large obsidian.

Xuxi who always manages to find Mark in the cafeteria and remembers Mark’s schedule better than Mark himself does. Xuxi who turned down everyone’s offer to watch the premiere of Avengers because Mark couldn’t join them and waited patiently until the management boy was available even if he had been dying to watch it three months before its release.

Xuxi who Donghyuck said has a crush as gargantuan as his body size on Mark, just as much as Mark is crushing on him.

Xuxi whose imaginary dog ears perk up at the mention of Mark, the equally imaginary tail of his wagging in excitement as he shouts, at the top of his lungs, like an overly excited puppy at the sight of its master. “Mark!”

And as always, Mark is short-winded, taken by his handsomeness, touched by the genuine glee that bursts golden out of his body whenever he sees Mark. “Hi,” Mark says, voice clipped, waving his hand weakly. “Err, I came,” he also adds, quietly, “like promised.”

Xuxi jumps off the stool, walking in large, giddy steps toward Mark, arms thrown open. “Mark! Hey, bro! You came! Hey!”

Mark stays rooted on the spot, cheeks flushing crimson because he knows what’s going to happen. He is supposed to be used to this, goddamnit. A hug is Xuxi’s customary greeting, he’s famous for his friendly, bone-crushing hug.

But when it comes to Mark, it’s different. it’s still a full body hug all the same, but with one of Xuxi’s hands circling around his hip and the other gently cradling the back of Mark’s head until his chin rests comfortably on top of Xuxi’s rock-hard shoulder, it feels and seems different. Xuxi also nuzzles into Mark’s cheek, or neck, or his hair, or any part of Mark he could nuzzle, before letting him go yet keeping him close by, slinging one overly-warm, heavy arm on his shoulder.

He knows this isn’t how friends hug each other, he’s also aware that this isn’t how Xuxi hugs his other friends. Donghyuck had said so, so did Jeno, and his boyfriend Jaemin, and their bestfriend Renjun, and basically every other person who knew Xuxi and was close enough to Mark to point it out.

The hug, when they’re fully clothed, is embarrassing enough even though Mark had grown accustomed to it.

Xuxi tangles his fingers between Mark’s hair, cradling his head as gentle as always. One strong arm wrapping itself around Mark’s torso, snug and careful. Slowly yet surely, he guides Mark into his arms, making Mark rest his chin on his naked shoulder, crushing all his weight on Mark’s body, the smaller boy’s name a joyous carol woven by his deep, rich timbre.

On instinct, because Mark is already used to Xuxi’s hug and because this is how his body naturally reacts upon recognizing Xuxi’s touch, Mark wraps his hands around Xuxi’s torso, hands linking with each other to lock his very much bigger friend in his own hold, Xuxi’s state of half-undress is momentarily forgotten.

It registers itself back in Mark’s mind the moment his fingers touch the unclothed skin.

The hug, when Xuxi is half naked and only wearing nothing but a kilt, and hopefully also underwear, is something else entirely.

Xuxi is warm, always warm, crackling bonfire warm. Brightly-lit furnace warm. Hot chocolate topped with marshmallow warm. The heat starts from the tips of his fingers, spreading its blazing wing of gold to the rest of his body, like being kissed by the sun, a silent whisper of rustling feathers under his skin.

He also smells as warm, crackling wood paired with the sweetness of cinnamon. A sweet smoke that suffocates Mark in the pleasant amber of its haze. Dazing. Hypnotizing. Now that they’re not hidden beneath layers of clothing, his heat and scent are amplified, shrouding Mark in their intoxicating caress, overwhelming.

He’s floating, far high and above g5, on clouds made out of spun sugar and spices. Angels are singing, in tune, a heavenly orchestra and other-worldly symphony. His name is still an aria casted by Xuxi’s sinfully plump lips, his breathing a susurration of encouragement on Mark’s skin, to press himself closer, closer into Xuxi’s beckoning heat as if the lack of distance between them is not enough.

“Oh God, Mark. Bro. I’m so glad you came. I was- you didn’t come, so I thought,” Xuxi babbles, words minced by nervous energy.

Mark pats his back. His very much naked back. It’s as if all the fire blazing under his skin unfurls itself, burning Mark’s palm, but Mark thinks it’s okay. If it’s Xuxi, he is more than willing to dance within his flame. “Sorry, I got, uhh, lost. Never went to this area of campus before. And you know me with direction, right?”

Xuxi sighs, dramatic. He also nuzzles his cheek on the side of Mark’s neck, making all his hair stand up. “Of course, Mark. Mark Lee,” he wails. “You’re lost without me, seriously. What do you do without me? My poor, Markie Poo. You should have called me!”

At the term of endearment, Mark flushes a brilliant shade of scarlet. He should be used to this already, Donghyuck has heard Xuxi called him _Markie Poo_ a million times before. But they’re in a new environment, surrounded by people Mark barely knows of, save for Taeyong.

Taeyong, who, speaking of which, is non-discreetly making his boyfriend take many, _many_ , pictures of them, judging from the endless rain of shutters.

Mark flusters, “Tae-Tae-Tae-Taeyong-hyung?!?!?!?!?!” He tries to detach himself away from Xuxi by pulling himself back, but Xuxi refuses to let him go, keeping Mark in his arms using his abnormal strength (or, really, Mark is just a wimp in front of Xuxi’s ginormous build). “Xuxi!?!”

“What?” Xuxi, worried, brows knotting together in concern.

“What?” Taeyong, amused. In glee. His usually beautiful smile now speaks of terror, promises of threat.

Mark shivers, Xuxi catches the tiny whimper that slips past his lips. And Xuxi, the ever so darling and kind and attentive Xuxi, bows down until his face is level with Mark, and he presses their foreheads together.

“Mark. Minhyung? Are you okay? You’re trembling. Is it cold?”

Mark doesn’t know if he’s cold. Or maybe it’s possible that he’s feeling cold because you feel cold when you have a fever, right? All he knows is that his body is warm and hot everywhere. All he knows is that all he can see is Xuxi and his gigantic eyes full of a twinkling galaxy. All he knows is that all he can breathe is Xuxi and his spicy scent and his breath, and his-

“Minhyung?”

Gravity shifts. The whole world tilts. Mark is hanging upside down. His heart falls to the floor, crashes into a million tiny pieces of stardust and silvery gems, and Xuxi is so close. So close that Mark can make out the specks of red in his brown eyes.

“Minhyung? Shit, you are-”

“Oh God, shut up or I will kiss you.”

There are collective sounds of hitched breath.

There’s also someone who suspiciously sounds like Taeyong, hissing, “fucking record it, Jeong Jaehyun, or I will divorce you, right fucking now.”

Xuxi just stares at him, wide eyes unblinking. His breathe is still tickling Mark’s lips, skin still searing Mark inside out that Mark can only marvel at the wonder of his still standing legs when his bones have all but melted into jelly.

Mark is.

Mark is, “Mark.” Xuxi drawls, long and deep, voice coming from a place Mark had never heard before. His gaze flickers to Mark’s lips before resting there.

Permanently.

“What do you think of my kilt?”

 _Kilt? What kilt? What the fuck is a kilt?_ Mark’s frazzled mind asks furiously because he can't think straight, head a jumbled mess of strings. Red. Like Xuxi’s lips. Like Xuxi’s stupidly red lips and equally stupid red kilt.

Oh yeah. Kilt. Xuxi is modelling for the design and photography department joint project; men in kilts. And he is one of the lucky men who had to wear a kilt. Only a kilt and nothing else. _Fucking_ kilt. It rides so low down his hips, so low that Mark demands whoever put it on Xuxi to be arrested and charged with public display of indecency.

Kilt. Xuxi is asking Mark about his kilt, he wants to know what Mark thinks of his kilt and in all honesty, Mark thinks kilts are evil and they should be incinerated to ashes like Xuxi’s touch, and Xuxi’s breath, and Xuxi’s everything is doing to him.

Burning the kilt will probably leave Xuxi naked but it’s okay. It is totally, completely, and one hundred percent _okay_. It’s-

“Good,” Mark says.

Xuxi, eyes still resting heavily on Mark’s lips, grins. Slow. Wolfish. Feral.

There’s a flicker of _something_ flashing in his eyes, before Mark feels him pressing closer, lips a shy breadth away from Mark’s own, his skin blazing inferno under Mark’s fingers. Then he whispers,

“Great. Wait until you see my _bagpipe_.”

“Bag-what?”

And Xuxi kisses him.

There’s another collective sound, this time a gasp, followed by a high-pitched squeal that probably comes from Taeyong. The SOS rings in Mark’s head; _they’re in public!_

But Xuxi is kissing him, warm lips pressed against Mark’s, and they’re so soft, so gentle, so sweet, like how Mark had always imagined Xuxi to taste like. Mark always imagined Xuxi to tastes like spun sugar and chocolate-coated fruits. Like gentle hands and confectionery affection. Like roller-coaster rides and sweet dreams; exhilarating yet enchanting.

He tastes exactly like that and then some, and Mark needs some more. More than the pleasant thrumming under his skin, more than the ticklish sensation where his and Xuxi’s bodies meet. He doesn’t care if they’re in public, the thought of them collapses into a rubble of silence at the back of his head.

All he can hear and think about is Xuxi; Xuxi and the small sigh that escapes his lips, Xuxi and his gentle lips resting plush against Mark’s.

He needs _more_.

So when Xuxi starts pulling away, Mark shakes his head. He locks his hand around Xuxi’s neck, intending to keep their distance close enough so he can get another taste of those sinful lips. He pulls with too much enthusiasm that their teeth ended up bumping.

“Fuck.” Mark swears.

Xuxi laughs, the crowd laugh, it’s awkward, and Mark would have wanted to jump into a hole somewhere if it wasn’t for Xuxi’s big palm cupping his cheeks, affectionate. Gentle. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to to do this?”

“How long?”

“As long as I’ve known you.”

And that’s the only warning Mark gets before Xuxi kisses him again, this time, with more passion, with more fervor. Mark answers him with his own eagerness, smiling before Xuxi’s lips descend upon him and claim him in a loving, dizzying kiss.

In the distance, he hears someone vaguely say, “get a room!” and someone else whose voice is foreign yet familiar hissing, “you’re getting the audio all ruined!”

Mark ignores them. Ignores the clappings and catcalls that follow. Ignores the embarrassment at realizing that his first kiss happened in public and his, supposedly, _boyfriend_ is wearing nothing but a kilt.

That fucking kilt. It’s beyond him how did the kilt manage to make Xuxi all the more delectable than he is in his skin-tight football uniform. Maybe it’s the way that it’s barely hanging on Xuxi’s hips, or maybe the confidence that Xuxi exudes when he wears it.

Even in something that’s technically a skirt, Xuxi is still sexy. So maybe it’s not the kilt, it’s Xuxi and his acres of strong, bronzed muscles. Xuxi and his heart bountiful with courage and confidence.

“So does this make me your boyfriend?” Xuxi asks after they part, still keeping Mark as close as possible, nudging their noses together. His voice lilting with nervous happiness.

Silly. Did he think Mark is going to reject? There’s no need to sound like that. So, Mark reassures him, giving him a small yet lingering peck on his lips, one that Xuxi reciprocates with a blissful sigh. “We got the order all messed up.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Your’s. You and your goddamn fucking kilt.”

Xuxi peers down at his kilt, at the _innocent_ red and black garment. He then looks back at Mark, totally far from innocent. “Like I said, if you like my kilt, wait until you see my-"

“Oh god. No. Not that again,” he groans, burying his face on Xuxi’s shoulder.

The crowd erupted into laughter. The crowd that witnessed them. The crowd that will carry the tale of Mark and Xuxi’s first kiss around campus. Probably complete with video footage.

Definitely complete with video footage.

Mark will care about them later, he will think about how to deal with the embarrassment and endless barrage of (Donghyuck’s) teasing later.

Right now, all he cares about is his _boyfriend_.

And his kilt.

He is considering getting the kilt home. After all, it’s been a genius idea.


End file.
